So Good: A Ribbon Ridge Novel (Love on the Vine Book 1)

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So Good: A Ribbon Ridge Novel (Love on the Vine Book 1) Page 2

by Darcy Burke


  As it happened, there was an empty chair on the other side of the table. Both Naomi and their other friend Jana had remarked—several times—that the people at the table would surely shift so that Brooke could sit with him.

  “I am not inviting Cameron Westcott to sit with us.”

  Jana paused in eating. “Wait, you know him?”

  Brooke had successfully changed the subject when her friends had tried to bring up the attractive guy who’d clearly been hitting on her. She’d known as soon as she saw him exactly who he was. “Remember that wine sales guy I’ve mentioned a few times, the total player? The one with the reputation for having a girl in every city in his territory?”

  Jana’s blue eyes widened. “That’s him?”

  Naomi sipped her wine. “Who cares? He’s hot. And interested in you. When was the last time you had sex?”

  Nearly three years ago. But who was counting?

  “She has a point,” Jana said. “In fact, he’s the perfect guy to end your dry spell since he won’t expect anything. I think you should hit that.”

  Naomi lifted her glass in a toast. “Ditto. And if you don’t, maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll go for the taller one. They looked like they might be related.” She glanced between Brooke and Jana. “Brothers, maybe?”

  Brooke speared several leaves of romaine on her fork. “I have no idea. Nor do I care.”

  Jana grinned. “You’re so full of it. I saw you checking him out, and whether you want to admit it or not, you were flirting with him.”

  “Until she shut him down cold.” Naomi’s teasing gaze turned serious. “Seriously, you deserve a good time. Why not give him a shot?”

  Because he was a player, just like her ex-husband. And look how their marriage had turned out. She inwardly cringed because that wasn’t a fair assessment. Yes, Darren had looked elsewhere, but their marriage had hit the skids long before that had happened.

  “I am not giving a guy like Westcott a shot at anything.” Although, Naomi raised a good argument if Brooke was looking for a one-night stand or a casual fling. Which she wasn’t. “I’m focused on my job right now. They took a chance on me, and I don’t want to blow it.”

  About fifteen months ago, she’d moved to the area from southern Oregon. Following her divorce, she’d needed a fresh start—new surroundings, new job, new outlook on life. She was still waiting for the new outlook. Yeah, maybe she did just need to get laid.

  Jana tipped her head to the side and looked at Brooke as if she were bonkers. “Spending an evening with a super cute guy, having a great time… How is that going to mess up your job exactly?”

  “Westcott has a reputation that I don’t want to be associated with. The wine industry isn’t that big.”

  “Okay, I guess.” Jana didn’t sound convinced. “Since you’re both in sales, you probably want to keep your distance.”

  Brooke poked at the roasted potatoes on her plate. “Actually, he’s not in sales anymore. He and his brothers started up a winery.” Ugh, why had she mentioned that? Now they’d continue to harass her about him. But maybe she could divert their attention. “That had to be one of his brothers with him.”

  Naomi’s head came up, her eyes widening slightly. “Brothers? How many?”

  “There are three of them, I believe,” Brooke said, relieved they were taking her bait and abandoning their objective to hook her up with Cameron Westcott.

  “Excellent, one for each of us,” Naomi said, lifting her glass.

  Jana grabbed her wine to toast Naomi. Their glasses met over Brooke’s plate, and they laughed. Then they turned to look at Brooke, their gazes demanding she join in their toast.

  Brooke just chuckled and shook her head. “I’m out, but you two have fun.”

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to date anyone. Okay, yes, it was that she didn’t want to date anyone.

  The pain of her failed marriage had started to dull, however. The harder she worked, the more she was able to block out her sadness and even look toward the future. Maybe it was time she got back in the game. At least for a short stint.

  But not with Cameron Westcott. He was hot. Too hot. And confident. And charming.

  She had been flirting with him, and without even realizing it. He’d sparked something within her, something that had lain dormant for the past few years. Something she’d missed, if she were honest with herself. And when did she bother to do that? Burying her feelings had become her favorite pastime. One she’d gotten really good at.

  Jana sat back in her chair and sipped her wine. “If Naomi’s got her eye on the tall drink of water and Brooke is going to pretend she doesn’t want to get to know Cameron Westcott, I clearly need a target of my own.” She turned her head to Brooke. “Did you say Westcott had brothers, plural?”

  “Yes, although I’m not exactly sure how many.” She tried to think of what she knew of their winery. “Actually, I just remembered that Hayden Archer is the winemaker. You know the Archers, right?” She looked at Naomi.

  Naomi rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Yeah, duh. Now I feel stupid. I see Tori at races sometimes. I forgot her brother’s a winemaker. With that hottie, huh?”

  “And his brothers,” Jana said. “If there are more Westcott brothers running around tonight, I call dibs.”

  Brooke waved her fork at them. “You can have all the Westcott brothers.”

  Naomi looked at her intently, all humor gone from her expression. “Brooke, you have to get back out there. This isolation isn’t healthy.”

  Brooke couldn’t help but feel defensive, especially since Naomi wasn’t wrong. “I’m not isolated. I’m out here with you guys, aren’t I?”

  Jana exhaled. “Okay. We’ll stop bothering you—for now.” She leaned close and lowered her voice to ensure the last bit was just between the three of them. “But I still say Cameron’s fuckability factor is off the charts. You’re crazy not to want a piece of that.”

  “Agreed,” Naomi said. “In fact, I think it’s past time I went in search of hottie number two. She picked up her nearly empty wineglass and downed the contents before standing up.

  Jana jumped to her feet. “I’m going with you to find hottie number three. Come on.” She grabbed Naomi’s hand, and they headed back toward the wine tent.

  Brooke frowned after them, wondering why they hadn’t invited her to tag along. Then she saw the reason coming toward her table. Her “friends” had seen Cameron Westcott headed her way and had decided to meddle by vacating the area. Bitches.

  Brooke finished off her wine for fortification as Cameron neared the table. He carried his glass, which was also empty, and a bottle of wine. “May I take this empty seat, or are we going to have another knock-down-drag-out over it?”

  She blinked up at him. “Nothing got violent. At least not until you tried to plow into me near the buffet.”

  He sat in Jana’s chair and set his glass on the table, scooting her plate with the stem just before a worker plucked it off the table. “I thought we’d established you did the plowing.”

  “I misspoke.” She looked at the bottle of wine in his hand. “Is that your wine?”

  He set it on the table between them so she could read the label. “It is. I thought you might want to try it. I assume, since you’re here, that you like wine.”

  She liked the look of their label. The font was stylish and sophisticated, and the graphic was simple but elegant—an archway with the sun setting behind it. She ran her fingertips over the embossing of West Arch Estate. “Classy branding.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take credit for that.”

  She half smiled at his arrogance. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  He grinned. “Fine, I’ll share credit with my pal Evan Archer. He’s the creative director at Archer Brewing and so far, I guess, at West Arch. He designed the font and created the graphic, but it really was my idea.”

  “It’s very nice. Makes sense you would have a handle on wine branding, considering what you used t
o do.”

  He froze for a moment, studying her. “Wait a sec. You know who I am. I didn’t put it together when you asked if this was my wine, but you know me.”

  “Yes, you’re Cameron Westcott.”

  “Well, damn. I’m afraid you’ve got me at a disadvantage, because I don’t know you.”

  She liked having him at a disadvantage and suspected he wasn’t terribly familiar with the sensation. “Pour me a glass of that pinot, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  The wine was already open and just had a cork stuck in the top, which he pulled out. He laughed as he splashed the garnet liquid into her glass. “Maybe, huh? Why only maybe?”

  “If your wine sucks, I’m ditching you immediately.”

  He laughed again. “Fair enough.”

  She vaguely realized she was flirting with him again, but decided it was harmless. People flirted all the time. Hell, flirting was a huge part of her job. Wine didn’t sell itself.

  She picked up the glass and swirled the wine around the bowl.

  “Hold on,” he said. “Are you really qualified to say if our wine sucks?”

  She stared at him, the glass on its way to her lips. “I’m a wholesale wine distributor, smart-ass.”

  His eyes widened briefly, and then he sat back in his chair, a grin playing across his sexy mouth. “Then by all means, judge away.”

  She sniffed the aroma first and picked up a strong cherry along with licorice and cola. She sipped and let the wine linger on her tongue. It was young, but it had great promise. She took another whiff before glancing at him. “My name is Brooke Ellis.”

  His lips spread into a full, satisfied grin. “I guess that means our wine doesn’t suck, Brooke Ellis.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” In fact, it was quite good. Or it would be, anyway. “How much of this do you have?”

  “Less than a hundred cases.”

  “That sucks.”

  He sat forward in his chair, his face animated. “Does it? I have to admit I’ve been excited about this wine, but nervous too. You really like it?”

  “I do.” His enthusiasm and uncertainty were both alluring and endearing, two things she hadn’t expected this player to be. And he was a player—she shouldn’t forget that.

  She took another sip of the wine, liking it even more on the second drink. “How many cases do you have from the last harvest?”

  “Don’t know yet. The pinot is all still in barrel. Hayden’s mulling what to bottle. We’ll do some single vineyard, but he’s planning an estate blend too.” His excitement was palpable. It had to be incredibly exhilarating to start your own winery.

  “Did you bring anything else tonight?”

  “A couple of whites—a pinot gris and a chardonnay. You want to taste them? They’re over at Hayden’s table.” He inclined his head to where a group of people stood milling about.

  She hesitated but decided there was no harm in drinking wine with him. Plus, she wanted to meet the winemaker. “Sure. Looks like there’s a bit of a buzz going on over there.”

  He stood up, smiling. “Just what we want.” He held her chair, pulling it back as she stood.

  She slipped the strap of her small clutch over her wrist and picked up her glass. Her friends’ purses were still on the table, but they weren’t her responsibility since they’d ditched her.

  Brooke sipped her wine as they made their way to the other table. The man Cameron had been with earlier was there—evidently, Naomi hadn’t been able to track him down. Or, perhaps more accurately, she’d found someone else.

  Cameron stopped next to him. “Brooke, this is my brother Luke. He’s the vineyard manager.”

  Brooke shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Brooke Ellis. I work for Willamette Distributors.”

  Luke nodded. “Good company. Nice to meet you.”

  She saw the resemblance between them in the dark shade of their hair, their wide foreheads, and the supple curve of their lips. Luke’s eyes were a dark brown, while Cameron’s were green. And where Luke had a faint beard, which a lot of women found sexy, Cameron was clean-shaven, which Brooke found even sexier. Overall, Luke exuded a casual, outdoorsy vibe, while Cameron looked more formal, from his expensive sandals to the crisp, pressed lines of his button-down shirt grazing his lean hips. He also smelled amazing, like clove and pine. She’d tag him at least slightly metrosexual, but in an exceedingly masculine way. Cameron Westcott was, unfortunately, precisely the kind of guy who did it for her.

  Damn.

  Cameron tapped another guy on the shoulder. He turned, and Brooke knew immediately he was another Westcott. He and Cameron were exactly the same height, possessed indistinguishable noses, and the set of their eyes was identical, though this one’s were hazel.

  “Brooke, this is our youngest brother, Jamie.”

  Jamie smiled, and she realized that together, all three brothers could probably power every string of lights hanging from the trees with the wattage from their smiles. Wow, what a cheesy thought.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said with a slight bow.

  Brooke smiled at him, her shoulders arching. “Very gallant.”

  Cameron rolled his eyes. “He lived in England for a couple of years and came back with these obnoxious manners.”

  Brooke gave him a prim stare. “I think they’re nice.”

  Jamie laughed. “Score one for the little brother.” He nodded toward the glass in her hand. “Did you try the pinot?”

  She nodded. “It’s excellent.” She finished what was left in her glass. “I was hoping to sample the pinot gris or the chardonnay.”

  “Get the pinot gris first. It’s running low.” Jamie turned and reached past a woman to tap a man’s arm. “Hayden, hand me the pinot gris.”

  The man, who Brooke surmised was Hayden Archer, gave Jamie the bottle. “Last one. Be judicious.”

  “Pouring for a wine distributor,” Luke said, gesturing toward Brooke.

  Hayden pivoted and stepped toward them with a smile. “Hi, I’m Hayden Archer.”

  Brooke took his hand. “Brooke Ellis, Willamette Distributors. Your pinot is amazing.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.” He took her glass and went to grab a bottle of water from the table. “Can’t let you drink the whites without a clean glass.” He swirled water in the bowl and tossed it on the ground. “Much better.” He handed it back to her, then took the bottle from Jamie to pour it himself.

  As with the red, she swirled the liquid in her glass. She sniffed and picked up pear, lemongrass, and spearmint. When she tasted it, the flavors of starfruit and apricot danced across her tongue. She savored the swallow and took another. It was an incredibly refreshing wine for a hot summer night. “This is outstanding.”

  Hayden grinned. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  A voice interrupted them from the other side of the table. “Hey, Hayden, I hear you’re pouring the best pinot gris in the place.”

  “Excuse me.” Hayden gave her a warm smile before taking off around the table.

  “This is a great night for him,” Cameron said, proud of his friend and proud of West Arch.

  Jamie raised his glass in a toast. “It’s a great night for all of us.”

  Luke lifted his too. “That it is.”

  The three brothers tapped their glasses together, and Cameron looked at Brooke. He nodded toward her glass, and, mesmerized by his stare, she joined in.

  “To West Arch,” Cameron said. “And making new friends.”

  Friends? Yeah, okay, she could do that. But nothing more.

  “On to the chardonnay?” he asked her.

  “Definitely.” He found a bottle on the table, and she finished her pinot gris to make room for the chardonnay.

  He gave her a healthy pour. “We have plenty of this. It’s still a bit young, but I think it’ll be pretty damn special in about six months.”

  She tasted it and agreed with him. “Don’t hate me, but I like the pinot gris more. That’s a personal pr
eference, though. Chardonnay has never been a favorite of mine.”

  “Me neither, actually.” He lowered his voice. “I have a secret love for off-dry Riesling. I convinced Luke and Hayden to plant some last summer.”

  She liked Riesling too and proceeded to take him down a rathole of her favorite producers. She blushed as she realized she’d been talking for a few minutes without a break. “Sorry, I’m kind of passionate about wine.”

  “I like that—wine and passion are two of my favorite things.”

  She stared into his green eyes, fringed with ridiculously long, dark lashes, and thought she could dive right into their depths and never come up for air. Damn, that was even cheesier than her thought about their smiling. Then again, she’d already had a few glasses of wine since they’d arrived.

  Wine. That was why she was here. Not to flirt with a guy with a horrible reputation. “Well, thanks for the wine. I appreciate you introducing me to it.”

  “It was my pleasure. Is there anything else you want to taste? I know a bunch of folks.”

  She tried not to laugh. “Um, I do too. Anyway, I should let you get to your adoring fans. You guys are attracting quite a buzz and rightly so.”

  She started to turn, but he touched her arm and moved closer. His scent was all around her, and he was near enough that she could feel his warmth. Her body instinctively gravitated toward him, but she willed herself not to bend. Not with Cameron Westcott. Hell, not with anyone. Ugh, her friends were right—she needed to get back out there. Except she wasn’t sure she knew how.

  “Stay with me. It’ll be fun.” His voice was low. Seductive. Dangerous. “Later we can cozy up by the bonfire.”

  Oh, he was good. And Jana was right about his fuckability factor—off the freaking charts. Her heart had sped up, and the sound of it beating seemed to flood her ears. This wasn’t good. She wasn’t ready. Not for this. Definitely not for him. “No, I think it’s best if we say good night. Thanks for the wine.”

  His brow furrowed, but he let his fingers slip away from her arm. She felt a tinge of loss but vowed she wouldn’t regret this.

  “Can I call you?”

  Damn, he was persistent. But she hadn’t built a wall around herself since her divorce just to see it torn down in a single evening. “No.” The lines in his forehead deepened. “Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I didn’t mean to be…flirty. But I’m not interested. At all.”

 

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